


Corruption

by Emile



Category: Dragon Age (Comics), Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 01:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8558440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emile/pseuds/Emile
Summary: When Hawke finally lands a job at Danarius Industries, he lands in a web of intrigues and corruption. The only light he finds in the middle of all that? Fenris...





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kloud](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kloud/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Warriors Such As](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5049112) by [rannadylin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rannadylin/pseuds/rannadylin). 



> Metis is a returning character in [rannadylin](http://archiveofourown.org/users/rannadylin/pseuds/rannadylin)'s work as Fenris' father that I have adopted as my canon. Brand is a character that only appears in the Dark Horse comics as Isabela's second in command, but he's one of my absolute favorites. All other characters starring are characters from Dragon Age 2 itself. :)  
> Also a huge thanks to [little_abyss](http://archiveofourown.org/users/little_abyss) for being my beta-reader and an over-all amazing person. She really helped with making me feel better about my writing, too! :D

Bethany shakily held the mirror in front of him as Hawke swiftly shaved his beard with the sharp of his blade. He looked at himself, swallowing thickly at the image looking back at him, and didn't dare to be the one to break the silence once his sister had lowered the mirror.  
“You look just like him...” she whispered hoarsely, gently tracing his now smooth angular jawline with the tips of her fingers, her lips quivering slightly. Hawke forced a laugh and pulled her into a bear hug. They breathed out a deep sigh in unison as they melted into each other.  
Hawke smiled as he broke away and gently poked at her cheek “Technically, I came _before_ him, so he looks like _me_.” he joked, and she giggled in response.

“It's probably better if you tell Mother I left,” he told her at the door, almost unable to pry himself away from his sister, but the stifling tension stopped him from making light of the situation. “I need to go.”  
Bethany held on more tightly now, pressing her nose to his muscular chest. “You look ridiculous in a suit.” she sniffled, then finally distanced herself from him, “Just make sure to make a good first impression.”  
Bethany flattened the crinkles of his shirt and gave Hawke one of her proudest smiles, “Go make our family proud.”  
“Yes, ser!” Hawke teased, mock saluting her before leaving through the front door.

 

The tram system brought him to the edge of Kirkwall, and a short walk to the next railway station got him to Tantervale, where he would take the ferry to the other side of the Minanter River. It was the safest way to leave the Free Marches without a background check and he had a member of the Red Jenny's to back him up if anything went wrong.  
The travel from Hasmal to the border of the Silent Plains should be safe enough, but community travel wouldn't bring anyone any further than that. Only people supplied with either magic or a big amount of money were able to cross the Plains... good thing that Hawke had spared plenty of both.

“Okay Bethany, this better work,” he uttered to no one in particular as he took the old tome from his raggedy backpack and dusted it off with the rolled up sleeve of his undershirt. The heat had beads of sweat dripping down his forehead as he struggled to open the book, wind suddenly picking up around him and nearly sweeping him off his feet.  
The wind pulled at him from all directions, almost taking his breath from him, and he had to temporary close his eyes to shield them from the sand painfully whisking around him. ' _You need to focus!'_ he remembered Bethany's urging voice _'Otherwise it will never bring you there.'_  
_'Hawke! Focus!'_  
He tried to ignore the cutting wind, the heat and the smell of dirt, and tried to concentrate on the big imposing building he remembered from photos instead. Bright colored towers reaching towards the sky as high as the eye could see, with circling stair cases and layers upon layers of walls, dividing the rich from the unworthy.  
Hawke imagined himself standing in front of one building in particular: Danarius Industries, a prestigious library, which doubled as a storage for rare tomes and items containing impossible amounts of magic.

 

When his eyes snapped open, Hawke struggled to close the book, the wind dying down as soon as the pages were pressed together. He nervously scratched at the scar that ran across his cheekbone, over the bridge of his nose, before straightening his roughed up suit as well as he could.  
The building looked even more imposing than he imagined, completely white and rectangular, opposing the aesthetic of the circular towers around it. The staircase leading to the front door was massive and so clean he could see his own reflection in it. _Maker's breath, I look like a mess._ Hawke inhaled deeply, ruffling a hand through his cleanly cut hair in a try to get the sand out.  
“You must be...” There was a short pause “Garret Hawke. Funny... out of everyone, I actually expected _you_ to stand me up.”  
He turned around in a hurry, seeing nothing but a white fluff of hair until he rearranged himself to look down to see eye-to-eye with the young elf talking to him. His white hair was pulled back into a small ponytail on the back of his head, revealing three white dots on his forehead and making his two big dark eyebrows stand out even more. They were knit together in one of the meanest scowls Hawke had ever seen and one hand was resting at his hip, one foot tapping impatiently at the white tiles. _Oh, no... he's hot._

“You _are_ Garrett Hawke, yes?” The elf asked, again, as Hawke was still trying to progress what was going on. Who was this? One of his bosses? No, too young. And an elf. Maybe an assistant? But that still wouldn't make much sense... “Hawke, if this is really the job you want, you must know that Danarius believes that time is one of the most valuable things in this world, and _you_ are _wasting_ ours.”  
“My apologies!” Hawke quickly recovered, pleasantly surprising him. “My name is, indeed, Garrett Hawke,” he offered his hand, which the elf looked at in utter shock.  
A few awkward seconds went by with Hawke sticking out his hand and him simply... looking, when Hawke hesitantly folded his hand to a fist “I'm sorry, would you like something less formal?” he tried, offering again “Fist bump?”  
The elf slightly shook his head, yet smiled, bumping his fist against Hawke's hastily “Fenris, Fenris Bellator.” he introduced himself, so fast Hawke could barely catch it.

The moment of comraderie, if it could even be called that, was over before Hawke was able to progress it, and he was soon ushered along by Fenris to be processed for work.  
“I had Varania work you through most of the system before you got here,” Fenris admitted, with a tiny shrug as he lead Hawke through what he had introduced as 'the main hall'. It was a long and broad hall opening up to what looked like thousands of doors leading to smaller halls which lead further into the building.  
Anyone with eyes could notice how overwhelmed Hawke was, but he relaxed slightly when Fenris sent him something he hoped was a reassuring nod “You usually start out doing desk work and working up on the ladder, so you will have enough time learning your way around.” Okay, actually, now Hawke wasn't entirely sure if that was reassuring or not.  
Fenris turned to him when they reached a black door without windows and gestured “This is the progressing door, here you will have your first interview with Danarius himself and receive your first coding.”  
“Sorry, my first _what_?”  
Before Hawke had his answer, something pulled him into the room and the world turned to black.

 

At first it felt like he was an outsider, looking at what was happening to his body as a blueish glow moved along his arm, tracking along his muscles and veins. It was as if it was painting out a map, all the while a machine was working on creating some type of bar-code along his wrist. His fingers twitched once in a while, but Hawke couldn't feel it.  
And then, like it hadn't happened, his soul was sucked back into his body and he gasped for air. His throat felt like it had been sand papered and a charismatic voice calmly reminded him how to breathe.  
“You have been coded,” it reminded him “You knew this would happen, you signed for this.”  
Hawke tested his hand, and when the burn of the new marking became small enough to bear, he started pulling at his restraints.  
“Try not to hurt yourself.” the voice reminded him, the amusement in it was barely hidden en frustrated him, making him pull so hard he nearly tore the leather “You are a Hawke, an Amell, but wondrously enough you are no Mage.”  
And just like that, the struggling stopped. Now, Hawke was looking around instead, his interest piqued and the 'coding' nearly forgotten for the moment. “What do you know of my family?”  
“Oh, dear Garrett, we were both _tricked_. I was _promised_ a Mage, and you were promised a nice, quiet job for a change. I guess for now, _neither_ of us will get what we want.”

Hawke looked like a zombie once he stepped out of that room, and he couldn't do anything to make that better, yet Fenris still found him right where he had been standing when they had pulled the man away from him. _Why did he care so much?_  This was not the first time, and would surely not be the last. He wasn't responsible. Hawke was the one to apply for a job there. Though... _shit_.  
“Danarius really doesn't like me...” he muttered to no one in particular, though Hawke was truly thankful there was someone there to be his listening ear. He hissed as he rubbed his thumb along the bar-code like tattoo on his wrist and huffed a laugh to mask his own pain. “He thought I was a Mage, isn't that ironic?”  
Of course Fenris wouldn't know exactly _how_ ironic that was... all their lives, he and Carver had trained and been on the run with their family because of their mage siblings, and now they had caught the only living non-mage left. _Fuck..._ Hawke chuckled again, even though he felt like crying.  
“This is the first time I met someone who is genuinely pissed off by the fact that I am _not_ a Mage.”  
Fenris awkwardly cleared his throat, looking away from the man. Usually he would use his fringe to hide, so he obviously felt even more out of his element now. “I might have implied you could use magic.”

He looked his way so fast that it might have caused whiplash, the muscles in his neck screaming in protest, but his mind was running faster than his body could move, “You did what?” Hawke asked, appaled, “Why?”  
“Because I wanted to...” for the second time that day, Fenris was at a loss of words, but this time it was completely his own fault. His own stupid mistake, and he couldn't make it right again. “How did you say it? I... really wanted to piss him off.”  
Hawke looked at him in disbelief, then back at the black door, as if he could look right through it. In his mind, he probably could. He could imagine just what Danarius looked like by his voice, could still feel how powerless he had made him feel. By the time he looked back at Fenris, Hawke was shaking his head, already distancing himself “ _Why_?” he repeated.  
“Danarius is my father.” Fenris answer was immediate and without hesitation, and it made Hawke scoff in frustration. Of course. This was why you should never let spoiled teenaged brats work for you.  
His hands were shaking and Hawke turned on his heel before he could say anything else “Just... leave me alone, okay? You've done enough.”

 

Varania slowly lifted her gaze from the pages of her book, and let it go over the kitchen table, quickly taking in the books her little brother used for learning his writing. She closed the book with a sigh when she noticed he was pressing the pen into the paper so hard that his fist was shaking “Killing the paper will not make the words come faster.” she commented “Also, 'sorry' is without 'e'.”  
“Is it?” he asked, flipping through some pages of one of the books “Fasta Vass...”  
She hesitated, then gave his shoulder a somewhat awkward pat “I am sure they will understand, you _are_ bilingual.” Varania smiled and patiently waited for him to smile back at her. After a short and pleasant silence, a soft 'tick' made her ear twitch and she slightly tilted her head “What did you put in the microwave?”  
Fenris perked up “I was trying to make Hawke cookies.”  
“I never heard that name before, is he a new friend?” she asked, her interest piqued.  
He shrugged, waving the apology note that had a misspelling on it “Only if this works.”  
“Wait... the _microwave_?!” Varania gasped “ _Fenris_!” she disappeared into the kitchen in a hurry.

 

Hawke twisted the pencil he was holding in his hand like a knife and jabbed it towards the tanned hand reaching for him, stopping it just in time “You-?” it came out somewhat unimpressed. Fenris dropped the paper bag at the registration desk and passively held up his hands in defense.  
“See those as a peace offering.” he tried, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, his white hair now loose and fanning around his head, green eyes nearly hidden behind his fringe “Yesterday, my words were chosen poorly. My actions before our meeting, even poorer.”  
The burly man grumbled, scratching at his facial scar in a nervous habit, completely unsure of what to say. Hawke had never been sure how to handle intricate social situations, those where more of his sister's forte, and they weren't here to back him up now. Instead of saying anything, he fumbled with the bag and took out the small note, squinting his eyes to be able to read.

> 'I am very sorrey for liing to Danarius about your abileties and ~~ende~~ ~~a~~ ndangering you and your family.

He looked down at the neat handwriting, amazed by the intricate loops, then back at the elf in front of him, recognizing some of the intricate loops in the pattern along his arms and hands. Fenris started tapping the sole of his foot on the floor tile, trying to hide his nerves behind feigned annoyance “I'm bilingual.” he excused himself.  
Hawke gaped at him for a moment, then looked back at the letter, unsure what he meant until he noticed one of the few misspellings that Fenris had made “What? No! I didn't even notice, I was just...” he awkwardly cleared his throat “I just thought that... your handwriting really fits you.”  
“What does that mean?” Fenris asked, a little suspiciously.  
“Huh? Nothing, really!” Hawke continued stuttering, his cheeks starting to become red as heat started to gather along his face. There was so much thinking and movement involved. His left eye twitched slightly in a nervous tic. “I just thought that it was... really... _pretty_.”  
Fenris opened his mouth, then closed it again, then opened it again.  
_Kind of like a fish on dry land,_ Hawke thought, and then he laughed.  
“You are a very strange man, Hawke.” Fenris said, but he did so with a smile that made him feel like everything was alright again. And despite everything, he still smiled back. “I will see you at work tomorrow.”  
“I'm still angry at you!” Hawke called after him, just to make sure he hadn't forgotten, and Fenris waved without looking before disappearing through the door.

 

“I forgot to ask if he liked them.” Fenris deadpanned, still tirelessly working his keypad and somewhat hoping his sister hadn't heard. It felt silly to worry about trivial things like this while they were doing important work for Danarius' business, seeing as it was the only thing keeping them from working 'downstairs'.  
But he should have known Varania was always there for him, guiding him with her gentle touch and her kind voice. She rested her hand on his shoulder and asked him “Is this really the right moment for you to be worried about your friend? I would be more worried about how to get back on father's good side.”  
Fenris scoffed, hanging back in his chair for a moment and lazily blowing the white strands of hair out of his eyes “He is _not_ our father.” he reminded her, and Varania looked at him in shock, then looked around the room to make sure no one was listening. Then she walked quickly to the door and closed it softly.  
“What has gotten into you, Fenris?” she hissed, leaning her back against the door, blocking his way out “You know you cannot just say things like that. If Dana- I-If father hears you, who knows what he'll do to you?”  
He turned on his desk chair and rolled it closer to her, crouching on top of it so they were somewhat eye-to-eye “You remember our real father.” he spoke, holding eye contact “Danarius didn't make you forget. I've been having... dreams, I need to know-”  
Varania looked away before he continued “Fenris, stop!”  
“I _need_ to know, Varania!” he continued, finally getting up off of the stool and taking a step closer to his sister. “Was his name Metis?”  
Her eyes widened at that name, she remembered a smile, hair like her brother's, eyes like hers, spectacles... _“I will be back.”_ But he never came. Varania grit her teeth and gave a firm shake of her head “Danarius has been _good_ to us.”  
“No, Varania,” Fenris snapped, his markings flashing dangerously “Danarius has been good to _you_ , and you _betrayed_ me for him!” He inched closer to her, fingers twitching and his neck and shoulders moving and locking into unnatural positions.  
Varania backed up against the wall and reached into her pocket “Brother... you need to calm down.” she tried to reason with him, fumbling with her phone “It's not yet stable, Fenris, it's not--- Father, Fenris is-- _AAAAH!!_ ”

 

 

Just like the day before, Hawke had been mostly ignored by colleagues, probably because of his low rank, and it normally wouldn't have mattered to him, but... he felt somewhat _lost_ now.  
“Excuse me, ser,” he hesitantly tapped a Qunari on the back, but the poor thing jumped, looked at him in genuine fear, bowed its head as far as it could go, and ran. And that hadn't been the first thing something like that had occurred. _Okay, Hawke, new tactic. Don't talk to anyone wearing the silver wrist bands._  
He took a deep breath and tried again. “Excuse me! Y-Yes, you there!” he smiled broadly at the young elven lady who responded to him and gave her an enthusiastic wave, skipping over to her “Do you work on this floor?”  
“Uhm- I- My name is Orana, I- I usually work _downstairs_ , but I can _try_ to help.” the elf offered, sending him a polite smile and folding her hands together in front of her “I have been doing very well. Look,” she timidly showed him her wrists “No shackles.” She also had no coding.  
Hawke tried to continue his cheerful demeanor, even though _something_ about her threw him for a loop. There was... something strange going on. Something _very_ wrong. “Have you seen Fenris? He should've been working today.”

Orana looked at him, bit her lip, then looked away again “Oh,” she whispered “I really shouldn't tell you that,” she looked back at him and smiled again “Were there any other questions?”  
Hawke needed a moment to process before he gently, but firmly took her shoulders and made her look at him “Shouldn't tell me _what_ , Orana?” he asked, feeling like his throat was being constricted. _Something_ was definitely wrong. “Where did they take Fenris?”  
She shook her head more frantically now, “Orana promised he would be _free_ after this.” Orana whispered, and Hawke slowly let go of her, inhaling sharply.  
“But free of what?” it escaped him in one breath, his eyes never leaving her.  
Orana smiled and gave a small shrug “ _Hope_.”

Hawke's expression was desolate for a moment, but then became one of determination “I will get him out of here.” he promised “Where is he?”  
“They will kill me if I tell you.” Orana whispered breathlessly, a little overwhelmed.  
He met eyes with him, not a moment of doubt “Then I will get you out of here, too.” he added simply “ _Where is he?_ ”  
Orana smiled and shook her head “They were taking him to the room for processing.”

 

Fenris didn't feel like he was part of his body, but he could still feel every inch of it, he could feel the process of magic and machinery alike tearing at his veins, reforming the markings, injecting more lyrium retracting from other places, replacing muscle tissue with... something different... his eyes didn't feel his as they stared straight ahead towards the screen above him that showed him what supposedly was his life.

 _All lies._ Fenris had to keep reminding himself. _That is not what happened._ Was this what he showed everyone? Danarius wasn't their savior, the Venetori wasn't going to better the world. Corypheus was _not_ the Elder One. The Maker... did not exist. His eyelids felt heavy, but he felt them being pulled open by iron locks when he had almost fallen asleep.  
'I give up.' The words were on the tip of his tongue when the door suddenly opened.

First there was a silhouette, but he could already see it was him. From the already regrowing fuzz on his cheeks that used to be a full grown beard on the registration e-mail to the ridiculous worn coat he wore over his dress suit.

He had never seen Hawke as serious and determined though, nor had he ever seen him actually wielding the two knives he had been hiding in the two holsters hidden inside his coat sleeves.  
“I already... thought you were quite a... rogue-ish looking... man.” he slurred, already kicking at one of the robotic arms holding him at bay, Hawke chuckled in response, working at undoing the alarm that had started blaring as soon as he threw open the door.  
Hawke threw a knife at the hinge keeping the structure together, making it topple down just besides the operation table.  
“Would you just sit back and relax for one moment, Fenris?” he muttered, struggling to cut him loose “I'm supposed to be the knight in shining armor here.”  
Fenris chuckled weakly, pulling away at the last of his restraints and getting on his feet “Just try to keep up, okay?”

They both held a knife as Hawke supported Fenris in walking, Fenris leading the fastest way out of the building.

 

“That's the way out,” Fenris heaved, still having trouble breathing, and talking, and walking, to be honest it was a miracle he was standing right now. Hawke could feel it in how heavy he was leaning his body against his.  
They limped towards the door and Hawke helped Fenris to the keypad of the code, watching him work his magic. “It is kind of weird how easy this was.” the elf hummed, eliciting a genuine sound of distress from Hawke. He arched a brow “I am just saying, I have been trying this for years and I never-”  
“Fenris! _Never_ look a given horse in the ass.” Hawke warned, rotating his knives in his hands just in case.  
Fenris rolled his eyes, furrowing his brows and apparently trying out another code “Hawke, I am serious.”  
“So am I, Fenris.” he shot back “Nothing good has ever come from worrying.”

He growled after the third wrong code, his markings glowing the color of lyrium and causing the familiar tingle of magical static in the air. Hawke was about to ask when Fenris released a yell of frustration and phased his hand right through the machinery, grasping the inner wiring and materializing his hand back into existence while pulling it back.  
“Maker's breath!” Hawke breath out the word without thinking, freezing as Fenris looked at him with remaining fury. It took a while for it to die down together with the glow and they both took grasped one half of the door, using all their weight to pry it open.

Danarius, Varania and Orana were already waiting on the other side.

“What is it you said?” Fenris whispered to him, inching closer to Hawke to gain power in in number “'Nothing good has ever come from worrying', was it?”  
Hawke couldn't help but grin, despite the situation, or maybe even _because_ of the situation “Nothing good has ever come of arguing in front of the enemy either, Fenris.”  
Danarius raised his hand, gesturing for the guards standing around them to stand down their weapons, for now. “I do not have to be your enemy, Hawke.  
He arched a brow, looking over at Fenris at first, then letting his eyes fall on the environment. Both gunmen and mages were surrounding them, weapons drawn, even though in rest. They were just waiting for a sign. “For someone who is _not_ my enemy, you haven't been all too friendly.”

Varania bowed her head deeply, trying to avoid Fenris' piercing glare. She was done apologizing, and he was done being disappointed. It felt like they had moved far passed that point long ago, even when things had been peaceful, it had never felt real ever since she brought Fenris back after his first escape. It seemed that she had been waiting for him to disappoint her once again.  
Danarius only seemed to be haveing eyes for Hawke for a moment, taking in all his movement and reactions. To Hawke, the older man seemed nonplussed, and Hawke smirked as he twirled a knife over his hand, giving of a relaxed attitude which he used to hide any doubts he might have.  
“I understand, you have been mislead, you do not understand the rules of these parts.” Danarius told him, his voice calm and clear. He folded his hands behind his back as Hawke watched him carefully. “You in fact stole my property. Fenris _legally_ belongs to me.”  
Fenrisgrowled at those words, his ears moving farther to the back of his head.  
Hawke had almost forgotten that the laws inside of Tevinter's borders still allowed some forms of slavery for any race that weren't human. Suddenly a lot more about his job made sense and the realization caused a wave of nausea to go through him. Luckily, Hawke was quite good at keeping a straight face when it came to _these_ type of things.

“If you hand him back without fighting it, I'll make it worth your while.” Danarius promised “Think of what a good position at my company could do for you. The power of the Tevinter Imperium would be at your disposal. Imagine what it will do for you and your family. Your pride, your wealth. A true restoration of the Hawke name. A return to the glory days of the Amells.”

It almost gave Hawke pause, and he looked at Orana for a moment, and then at Fenris. Maker take them, he couldn't do this. He grit his teeth, and let the silence set in, gripping the handles of his weapons to ground himself.  
“What shall it be, little wolf? Will you throw your life away?” Danarius voice sounded calm, almost kind, and he extended a hand towards the elf. Fenris looked at the man through his fringe, visibly deflating “No, I--”  
But before he could answer, Hawke had mustered all his concentration, a red glow gathering around both his hand and weapon, and he threw the knife in his hand. It was like an extension to his arm, reaching the distance he couldn't cross and sinking deep into Danarius' chest.

Before anyone could respond, Hawke was on top of Danarius, wrenching the knife free as Danarius bucked and gurled beneath him before plunging it just above his left his eye socket to pop his eye out with as little damage as possible. It made a satisfactory noise, and Danarius screamed.  
“Take Orana and run!” Hawke heaved just above the battle cries erupting around them and everything scattered again.

 

Hawke nearly collapsed onto the deck of the 'Siren's Call II', holding himself up by holding on to a pickle barrel. He rest his head against the cold wood for a moment and tried to still the thumping in his head.  
“Oi, Hawke!” Oh, Maker, Hawke sunk into a sitting position and took his head into his hands “Hawke, do you need to puke? Please don' puke on the ship, Capt'n will kill me. And there are all these very important guests-”  
“Brand, I love you, but please-” he groaned “Phase and volume...”  
The blond elf gently took his hand and made Hawke look into his impossibly warm eyes, sending him a crooked smile “Ok'y,” he breathe “Most important thing,” Brand looked over his shoulder “I got your guests 'ere.”  
Brand looked him over, rolling down his sleeve “Come on, let me help ya, gotta look presentable.” he wiped the blood off of Hawke's face, ruffled down his hair, straightened his askew clothing and gave him the same smile again “Now you're perfect.”  
He was a little overwhelmed by Brand's energy, but the time completely seemed to stop once Brand got to his feet and distanced himself, opening Hawke's field of vision to the 'guests'. He finally relaxed, sporting the broadest smiles “You found it. I was afraid... I never told either of you.”

Fenris shook his head and send a nod in Brand's direction “He found us.” After this, he sat down next to Hawke, leaning their shoulders together, the top of their hands just barely touching. “In the end, I am still not sure whether to be thankful because you freed me, or be angry because now we will be hunted for the rest of our lives.”  
Hawke nodded in agreement briefly, and his eyes closed. He felt himself slowly pulled under, nodding off, his head lolling to the side and falling to rest against Fenris' somewhat bony shoulder. “I'm still... angry at you...” he slurred with a yawn.  
“I know.” Fenris hummed, simply resting back and looking up to the sky.

 

Hawke woke up with half of his body numb from cold, but other half pleasantly warm, and sleepily nuzzled closer to Fenris' body before realizing what he was doing. Both men froze at the same time, but didn't move. Several awkward minutes followed, where neither wanted to admit they were already awake.  
“ – eally mean it! Capt'n thinks you're pretty cute an' I like you, you could just stay.” that was definitely Brand's voice... and _that_ was Orana's giggle.  
He threw his head back and let out a soft laugh “Maker's breath, Brand, not again.”  
“Do I even want to know about the _again_?” Fenris asked, his voice even rougher than usual because of the sleep. Hawke chuckled again, resting a hand at his bruised ribs, he shook his head. “You really don't.”

They slowly untangled themselves from each other, stretching their cold limbs, Hawke a little more stiffly than Fenris did. He noticed the elf eying him in suspicion and turned away from him, walking towards the sound of Brand's voice in an as straight line as possible.  
He turned around, startled, when a female voice resound on his left, reaching for his knife (That he had no longer on him, damn it!) in response. “Glad to see you are feeling stable enough to look like a caveman again, sweetie.” she greet, winking in Hawke's general direction, her hips swayed as she walked his way. The captain of the ship, in all her glory.  
“Isabela,” he sighed, smiling despite himself “Thank you, for still being here.”  
She shrugged, leaning her arm on the wooden ship frame and looking over at the ocean. It didn't take much time for her expression to finally braek into that smug smile of her though “Seems like it's not only Kirkwall that needs it's Champion.”  
Hawke snorted “Don't know if you heard the story, but it's not _exactly_ voluntarily.”  
“Right.” Isabela dragged the word, making sure to coat it with sarcasm.

Now this part, this part was going to be awkward. Hawke had thought about trying to bring up the subject as subtle as possible, but there was really no way around it. He had Danarius' eye in an empty potion bottle. He had an _eye_ in a bottle! “Isabela, I have an eye in a bottle.” he muttered.  
“You... what?” was the only sensible response she could muster, her dark brows drawn.  
Hawke scratched at his scar with a lopsided grimace “Let's say that a little birdie has told me what you do with pretty eyes of your enemies.” he tried, feeling increasingly more awkward with the way Isabela gaped at him.  
Isabela shook her head, regaining her smile “Maybe I should drop by Kirkwall one of these days again to remind that certain little birdie not to flap his little mouth about things like that, yeah?” she rest both hands at her hips now, but her hands fell back at her sides as he noticed Hawke's expression fall.  
“I'm... very sorry to tell you that the little birdy ran off to die with the Templars.” he spoke under his breath, looking down at the sea. Hawke tried to force himself to say something funny, but he couldn't. He really couldn't. “But that is a story for another time.”  
Isabela rest her hand on his broad shoulder and whispered a soft “Oh, Hawke...” pressing her lips to his cheek. There was nothing else she could do or say, but offer her open hand. “Give me the eye.”

 

When Hawke returned to where they had been sleeping, Fenris was no longer there. After just a while of searching, he found Fenris and Orana being taught by Brand what to do when they would cast off in a few. In a relaxed position, unconsciously rubbing along his wrist, he was taking in the sight. They were so eager to learn new things, but for themselves this time.

Fenris looked up from the ropes and smiled when he noticed Hawke, forgetting what he was doing for a moment and letting go of the rope so he could wave at him. He apologized and they both laughed as Orana scolded him for it.

He leaned against the railing next to Hawke when they took a pause, looking over the water “Brand says that we should leave in just a while.” Fenris shrugged, glancing at him from the corner of his eyes “I am not sure what I did to deserve this second chance.”

“I guess it's because Orana and you never really lost hope.” Hawke gently bumped their shoulders together, resting his hand just a little closer to Fenris'. He took the hint and gradually moved his hand on top of Hawke's.  
“I feel like a lot of new paths just opened up to me,” Fenris admitted, slightly curling his fingers around his broad hand “But I have no idea what to do with this newfound freedom. No idea where to go.”  
Hawke turned his hand so he could intertwine their fingers and smiled at him, “You can stay with me,” he promised “I'm not asking you to trust me, but-”  
“I trust you.” Fenris abruptly interrupt him, smiling warmly “And I would like that.”

And Hawke wasn't sure if he had copied this from Isabela from seeing it before or if he did this because of romantic motives, but Fenris leaned just a little closer and pressed his lips to his cheek.  
When he owlishly blinked at him, Fenris was scowling at him “What's wrong?” Hawke muttered, still unsure of what exactly just happened _Maker, he kissed me!_  
“Your beard tickles.” Fenris commented, regaining distance as if _that_ had never happened.  
Hawke blinked again, and rubbed his cheek. “Should I cut it again?”  
Fenris looked at him with a little more annoyance now “No,” he deadpanned, but then his cheeks turned slightly red “I like it.”  
He scurried off, saved by the bell, as Brand called him over to help cast off the ship.

 

For the first time in years, both men felt hope for the future.

 

There will be more in the future...


End file.
